


Birds of Prey: Twisted Desire

by TheoRyswell



Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Because of the Mind Control, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Het, Mind Control, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Man, Smut, Underage Sex, Using Characters So Obscure They May As Well Be "Original Characters", some FemSlash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoRyswell/pseuds/TheoRyswell
Summary: Huntress is in thrall to a sinister force. Batgirl and Black Canary go undercover at a prestigious boarding school to save their friend. A Birds of Prey adventure with a darkly erotic twist.





	1. Author's Note: A Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief thank you to the readers of my story.

_ Hello, Readers. _

 

_ I am happy you decided to check out my little story here. This is not my first crack at writing an erotic story, but it is my first time writing one within a world created by someone else - or in this case, created by a great number of someone elses. I’ve always been a fan of DC Comics - and comics in general - but the Birds of Prey have always been a group that stood out to me. Never mind that they’re strong, gorgeous women running around in skin-tight or scanty outfits - I was also interested in them as characters. Barbara Gordon, Dinah Lance, and Helena Bertinelli have always resonated with me as deeply engaging women that play wonderfully off of each other. Sure, they’re great on their own, but for me they shine brightest working together as the crime-fighting sisterhood, The Birds of Prey.  _

 

_ Now watch me show my appreciation for these strong, powerful women by putting them in a dark and twisted erotic tale that explores kinks and fetishes that might not sit well with some people.  _

 

_ Jokes aside, let this be a fair warning to those who are faint of heart. This is generally not a happy story and if you are expecting a clean-cut happy ending, you should best look elsewhere.  _

 

_ Now, this story doesn’t really follow any continuity found in the DC Universe. Barbara is out of the wheelchair like in the New 52 yet Helena remains her pale-skinned self from the Post-Crisis continuity. I’ve decided for the sake of personal taste to set this tale within what I would describe as a “continuity-collage” - my favorite elements of the characters coming together in a completely original storyline.  _

 

_ And yet paradoxically, as a stickler for continuity, almost all of the characters I’ve used in this story are either canon characters or related to canon characters. And they could have been taken from anywhere: the comics, the movies, the cartoons, the video games, or even the television shows! So have fun looking them up on ComicVine or whatever. _

 

_ Once more, thank you for reading my story. But please remember: It  _ **_is_ ** _ only a story. _

 

_ -Ryswell _


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinah is called to the Clock Tower, where Barbara waits with grave news.

** Prologue **

Night in Gotham. A light rainfall pattered against glass and brick and metal, casting a wet sheen over the street and sidewalk. The bright hues of the downtown nightlife glowed high above the heads of the bustling citizens, as well as down below their feet, reflected in the grey puddles of murky rainwater.

The pink neon silhouette of a full-figured woman gleamed brilliantly upon the sidewalk - and instantly turned into a mess of ripples as a pair of boots came down upon it. They were women’s boots, knee-high, black, sporting wedge heels, and far, far too expensive to dare sully with muddy water. But their owner found herself unconcerned with the well-being of her clothing.

No, she had far bigger things to worry about. Hands gripping her umbrella tight, she continued forward at a brisk pace.

 _Because Batgirl doesn’t send urgent messages on a whim,_ she thought as she brushed past a trio of youths, clad in letterman jackets. Gotham State University she deduced from the colors - as well as the GSU emblazoned on their backs.

“Nice legs, blondie!” One catcalled after her.

She half-heartedly flipped him the bird, not even bothering to give the jackass a second look as she continued down the sidewalk. For a moment she expected one of them to try and catch up to her, maybe start something, but the chorus of laughter that erupted behind her made her relax.

_Too drunk to get angry, not drunk enough to do something stupid._

She found her destination quickly enough: An old building, built and owned by Wayne Enterprises way back in the thirties. The Gotham Clock Tower, a landmark of Bleake Island since it’s construction. And unknown to but a handful of people in the world, the base of operations for the Birds of Prey - and even Batman, on rare occasions.

The elevator was unbearably slow - such as it always was. For all of Batgirl’s obsession with the latest, cutting edge tech, she refused to touch the building’s architecture when she didn’t need to.

A high-pitched ding rang out as the lift reached the top floor. The door slid open to the low sound of grinding metal and Dinah Lance stepped forward into the War Room - a sparse, cube-shaped room illuminated by the array of computer screens that covered the far wall. A lone figure sat at the foot of the digital mountain, her back facing the new guest.

Dinah frowned, letting her umbrella drop down into the stand by the elevator doors. She ran a hand through her blonde hair - dyed from brunette ever since she got sick of wearing those damned wigs - and marched towards the woman in the chair, her boots thumping against the wooden floor.

“Congrats on getting me freaked out over the phone,” She said, her words laced with equal parts annoyance and worry. “You mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

The woman turned in her chair, blue-green eyes fixing on Dinah’s in a steely gaze. Barbara Gordon was a young woman but she could command respect like few others. Living with the example of her father, the police commissioner, and learning under the Dark Knight himself, it was inevitable she would pick up a few things.

“I received a message this morning.” She told Dinah in a grave tone. “From Huntress.”

Dinah already didn’t like the sound of it. She crossed her arms, the brown leather of her jacket pulled taught across her back. “And? How’s she doing?”

Barbara didn’t answer immediately, turning her eyes back onto the screens in front of her. A feeling of dread dropped into Dinah’s belly like a stone.

“Babs?” Dinah pushed, planting a hand on the desk beside Barbara, looming over her seated form. “Is she alright? Is she hurt? _Tell me!_ ”

“She’s not hurt. Not that I’ve seen.” Barbara answered, almost _reluctantly_ so, rubbing her temple with her fingers.

“Well what have you _seen?_ ” Dinah urged, the dread slowly starting to turn into panic. Batgirl was never the type to skirt around the issue at hand. How bad could the situation _be?_

“Huntress isn’t hurt. But she’s not fine, either.” Barbara made a face, nose and brow scrunched up as if the words waiting in her mouth were putrid in flavor. She shook her head, like she could barely believe it herself. “Helena sent me a video file. A sex tape. _Her_ sex tape.”

Dinah blinked. She took a half-step back, like Barbara’s words had slapped her across the face. For a moment she was speechless, wide-eyed like they were in a comedy skit and they’d just delivered the punch-line.

“Oh.” She finally said after a fashion. She looked from the computer screen to the ceiling to her boots before eventually setting her eyes on Barbara again. “That’s… really weird. And wildly inappropriate. But a sex tape isn’t an emergency. You made it sound like she was _dying_ , Babs!”

Barbara stood from her seat, the office chair slowly rolling backwards on tiny wheels. “She may not be dying but this _is_ serious, Dinah. Just watch.” She hit a few keys and the circular loading animation for a video file came up on the big screen.

Barbara Gordon had the best computer equipment money could buy and the video file was playing perfectly in an instant - too quick for Dinah to even have the thought of averting her eyes. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, the largest screen in the room - the one right in front of Dinah’s face - was playing Helena Bertinelli’s homemade sex tape.

Barbara hadn’t been lying - it was most definitely Huntress. Dinah could see that now, up close and in high definition. With crystal-clear audio.

_“That’s it. Yeah, that’s it. Right fucking there. Deeper. Deeper!”_

The sounds of sultry moans, masculine grunts, and flesh slapping against flesh reverberated in the War Room. It was only a step or two below deafening as the sounds of sex pounded their ear drums - much like Helena herself was being pounded on the computer screen. And she was getting _pounded_ \- Dinah could fault Huntress for many things but not for her pick of lovers. Dick Grayson, the pretty boy with the absolutely fantastic ass, Roy Harper, certainly a sore spot for Dinah but even she could understand the appeal, and now this nameless stud who was utterly _merciless_ in his rutting - much to Helena’s vocal pleasure.

He was a good-looking fellow, certainly. Strong jaw, brown hair, blue eyes, and well-built to boot. Not quite on the level of Nightwing, let alone Batman, but his body was lean and firm in that delicious boytoy way. And it was clear the lucky bastard had more than enough stamina to keep up with the likes of the Huntress.

It was a few minutes before Dinah rediscovered the good sense to tear her eyes away.

“I don’t need to see this, Barbara!” She hollered over Helena’s wild howls. The stud now had the poor woman on her hands and knees, thrusting into her pussy with one hand gripping her wild mane of black hair.

 _“Fuck. That’s it, Miss B. Fucking take it. Take that cock. Take it_ **_deep._ ** _”_

He was on the younger side judging from his smooth, unweathered voice. Not really feminine, but untempered. Probably a college boy, like the punks Dinah dealt with on the sidewalk.

Frighteningly enough, the feelings of disgust and worry were dissipating, giving way to a primal appreciation for what the young man was doing… and even a little _envy_. Dinah shook her head, banishing those thoughts from her mind.

“At least put it on mute, for fuck’s sake!” Dinah cried out again. This time Barbara answered her friend’s request, turning the volume down from the booming level the video had started at… but not quite muted. The voices of Helena and her lover were faint, but very much still present.

It was now quiet enough for the blonde to think again and the first thing she did was shoot the redhead a heated glare. Dinah took a finger and pointed it accusingly at the screen - which was still playing Helena’s video - taking a deep breath through her nose.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Barbara.” Her voice was calm but hard as steel, her anger focused and restrained. “I didn’t need to see that.”

Barbara, for her part, held her ground. “Yes, you did. You needed to see it to understand just what this situation is.”

“I won’t understand until you tell me. It’s weird, sure, but Helena’s a grown woman. If she wants to get kinky with a gentleman caller, then let her. We’ll just tell her to keep her videos for herself.”

“Helena is absolutely a grown woman. And that’s exactly the problem.”

Dinah frowned. “What do you mean?”

Barbara took a deep breath and exhaled before returning to her seat and pressing a few buttons on her keyboard. On the screen beside the superheroine sex show, an image came up. It was Helena’s boytoy. More specifically, it was his driver’s license.

“I scanned the footage with facial recognition and voice identification. Cross-referenced the results with any and all Gotham archives. Social media profiles. Video sharing websites.” Barbara clenched her teeth. “...School enrollment databases.”

She let the words hang in the air. There was a silence between the two women for a short moment, the only sound in the room being Helena’s high-pitched squeal as her lover finally brought her to orgasm.

“...And?” Dinah asked tentatively.

Barbara sighed, her shoulders falling. “Her little boytoy? Matthew Reston. He’s _sixteen._ And currently enrolled at Kingston Academy. Dinah, he’s her _student._ ”

The dread came back, now a boulder that punched a hole in Dinah’s stomach and made her weak in the knees. Reston. The name was familiar to her. She knew someone with that name, but she couldn’t focus enough to remember. There was but one thought blaring in her mind over and over, washing over everything else. _Oh, God. Helena’s fucking some_ **_kid!_ **

Dinah’s mind was a whirlwind. The world itself was beginning to spin around her. She planted a hand on Barbara’s desk to keep herself steady. None of this was real. It couldn’t be real. It was just some sick nightmare. She would close her eyes and wake up back in her bed with a cold sweat. She blinked once. Twice. She was still standing in the Clock Tower. And she could still hear the video playing behind her. She could still hear the sound of Helena and him… Of their bodies coming together, flesh on flesh.

“No.” She said firmly, shaking her head. She turned towards Barbara, glaring. “It’s fake. It’s one of those deep fakes. Someone’s just playing some sick fucking joke on us. They… they just edited her face onto another girl’s-”

“I analyzed the footage for hours.” Barbara confessed, her voice sober, _defeated_. “It’s real, Dinah.”

The blonde gave her friend a pained look, her eyes pleading for her to come out and say it was all a twisted prank. But the relief never came. “I don’t believe it.” Dinah pushed off from the desk, taking as many steps away from the computer screens as the room allowed. Simply being close to what was happening on the screen made her feel filthy. She hugged her arms close to her body, pulling her leather coat shut. “Helena wouldn’t do this. She might be man-hungry like no other woman on earth, but that doesn’t mean she would go off and fuck a _teenager_. Let alone one of her own students!”

Dinah felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Barbara was beside her now, her eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry I showed that to you. But you needed to see it. You are right about Helena. She wouldn’t do something like this. Not of her own free will.”

“You think she’s being blackmailed?” Dinah asked. She shot a brief glance towards the computer screen before averting her eyes in shame, a faint blush painting her cheeks. “Doesn’t look or sound like it.” She muttered.

“Could be blackmail. Could be something worse. Pheromones. A love potion.”

“A love potion?” Dinah repeated, unimpressed.

“They exist.” Barbara insisted. “It could also be mind control. God knows we already have enough of those sick freaks running around. What’s one more? And get this: Matthew Reston? He’s Derek Reston’s nephew. You’ve already had a run-in with _him_.”

“Derek Reston…” She knew that name sounded familiar. “ _That_ stuffed suit? The goddamn MegaCorp stooge?”

“The very same. This Matthew Reston guy comes from a bushel of bad apples, sister. This Kingston Academy place, it’s prestigious absolutely. But it’s a dumping ground for supervillain spawn. Not just this Reston goon, but people like Senator Culler Strand, who dumps waste into swamps down in Florida. Roland Desmond, who you might know as _Blockbuster_ . And Paul Westfield, who’s a project director at fucking _Cadmus_. They all send their kids to this school. It’s Supervillain High!”

Dinah paced in a small circle, breathing through her nose, fingers drumming against her crossed arms. “You think… You think this sick bastard got his claws in Huntress… To get to _me?_ ”

“I’m not thinking anything. But it’s a possibility. Something is clearly very wrong here. You and I are going to fix it. Birds of Prey style.”

The grit in Barbara’s voice was almost enough to draw a smile out of Dinah. But the weight of what had become of their dear friend still loomed over them both. Barbara had to settle for the ghost of a smirk tugging at Dinah’s lips.

“I take it you have a plan?” Dinah brought her hands together, cracking her knuckles. “We gonna bust some heads or what?”

Barbara gave a sly grin. “Whatever bullshit is happening down at Kingston Academy, you and I are gonna shut it down. We’ll be going undercover as new faculty. I already created some aliases for us.”

“Charlies’ Angels stuff. Not bad, but I’m still not hearing anything about head-busting.”

“I’m getting to that. We go in, play the role of new teachers. We sniff around, find out just what the hell is going on and exactly who is responsible. We grab Huntress and get her the fuck out of there. And then we start busting heads.”

Dinah nodded. She liked the sound of that. No, she _loved_ the sound of that. Some silver spoon, rich boy punk was about to find out why messing with Black Canary’s friends was the worst mistake his privileged little ass could _ever_ make.

“ _Good._ ” The Black Canary smirked. She drove her fist into her open palm. “I can’t wait to pound that little runt.”

“All in good time, Canary.” Batgirl assured her. “All in good time.”


	3. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara and Dinah infiltrate Kingston Academy and attempt to make contact with Helena.

**Chapter One**

**Undercover**

“I’m going to be honest with the two of you,” The Headmistress said without taking her eyes off the papers on her desk. “We are not in desperate need of new academic staff. This institution - and by extension, its faculty - is one of the highest rated in both Gotham City and the nation.”

Barbara didn’t feel concerned. If she and Dinah weren’t hired, then they had plans B through F to fall back on. But the woman sitting across from them made the redhead feel… peculiar. A quick glance over at Dinah revealed the short, blonde powerhouse sitting with a tense, stiff posture. Barbara knew her friend felt the same way she did.

Headmistress Vivian Kaplan was a striking woman. Not tall or imposing or even intimidating, but absolutely remarkable to look at. The woman was  _ gorgeous _ . She had full, red-painted lips that mesmerized even Barbara, who considered herself the most hardline hetero on the team. The high cheekbones and sharp jawline were elegant, not masculine, and her pale skin was sublime, with nary a blemish or wrinkle. Shining black hair fell to her shoulders in perfect waves, framing a porcelain face that was somehow both delicate and stunning. But above all were her eyes: the type of  _ dazzling _ icy blue that could stop ladykillers dead in their tracks. Barbara’s file on the Headmistress said she was forty-five, yet she was sitting across from them looking half that age. 

Barbara pushed the niggling envy she felt to the  _ far _ back of her mind. She and Dinah were here for Helena, not beauty tips.  _ Although, I oughta find out what kind of moisturizer she uses… _

“But…” The Headmistress drew her eyes up to look at them, smiling. She clasped her hands together on her desk, shoulders squared. Not even her conservative attire could completely hide her curvaceous body, the dark blue turtleneck pulled snug over her ample bust. “Your credentials are incredibly impressive, especially considering how young the two of you are.”

Barbara Gordon - or rather “Barbara Morgan” - gave a half-nod. “We’re career-minded women, Miss Kaplan. We need to work extra hard to stand out in our fields, as I’m sure you’d agree.” Beside her, “Dinah Blake” nodded in firm agreement.

There was a brief twitch at the corner of Vivian’s mouth, but it disappeared as quickly as it arrived. The brunette smirked, looking from Dinah to Barbara then back to the papers on her desk. She unclasped her hands, snatching a sheet of paper, inspecting it as she straightened her posture. “You two  _ absolutely _ stand out among the applicants. You are aware these are full-time positions, I hope?”

Both interviewees nodded. The Headmistress’ eyes glittered.

“Good,” The older woman leaned back in her chair, reaching out with one hand to idly touch the paperweight on her desk, an oval-shaped lunk of glossy, black stone. She tapped her scarlet-colored nails against it:  _ click, click, click.  _ “You will be expected to maintain a permanent residence within five miles of the campus. Of course, Kingston Academy does offer housing to our faculty if they ever have difficulty finding an apartment.”

“That will be perfect for us,” Dinah said with well-acted gratefulness.

Headmistress Kaplan clasped her hands together once more, beaming. “Splendid! Will you two be taking a single bedroom unit?”

“Two bedrooms. We’re not a couple.” Barbara clarified - quickly enough for Dinah to give her a sharp look.

“We’re just very good friends.” Dinah added bluntly. 

Barbara knew the real reason the blonde was insulted - It was easier to count the people who  _ didn’t _ want to date the Black Canary - but the Headmistress took it as a sign of her own lack of social grace.

“My mistake,” She said with a short, apologetic bow. “I’m sorry for assuming. We don’t get many applicants who insist on being interviewed together, is all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Barbara said, making a dismissive gesture with her fingers. “Dinah and I are just looking forward to doing what we do best.”

The redhead shared a brief, knowing look with her blonde compatriot, catching a  _ devious _ look in the other woman’s eyes.  _ Oh, we’re  _ **_really_ ** _ looking forward to it… _

“Well then, Miss Morgan, Miss Blake, I happily welcome you to Kingston Academy. I look forward to working with both of you.” The Headmistress stood up from her seat, revealing herself to be taller than both Dinah and Barbara and as shapely as the amazonian princess, Wonder Woman - Barbara supposed Kaplan might even have been  _ shapelier _ if the woman’s body was free of those tight clothes. Neither the turtleneck nor the pencil skirt could hide the Headmistress’  _ magnificent _ figure. She extended her hand to them and they took it, first Barbara, then Dinah.

“Thank you again for this opportunity, Miss Kaplan.” Barbara said, pointedly  _ not _ looking at the great swells of the Headmistress’ chest.

“Nonsense. I should be thanking you. A couple of fresh minds are  _ exactly _ what I need.”

_ Success _ , Barbara thought with a completely justified and earned smirk.

“Before we leave you to it, there is one thing we wanted to ask you.” Dinah leaned against Kaplan’s desk, drumming her fingers on the dark oak. “One of our old friends also has a position here. One of your teachers. Her name is Helena Bertinelli. We were hoping you could tell us where to find her.”

“Miss Bertinelli…” Kaplan tapped a finger against her ruby red lips. Then her eyes lit up with familiarity. “Yes, I remember. She was hired on six months ago as our eleventh grade English teacher. Her classroom should still be in the Miagani building, west side of the campus.” She gave them both a dazzling smile. “If you two hurry you can catch her before the bell.”

* * *

It took them twenty minutes to find the Miagani building. For a boarding school, even an upper-class one, the Kingston Academy campus was absurdly large. Boasting two libraries, three parks, and  _ four _ dormitories - not including the one reserved for faculty - the institution of learning was a nightmare to navigate. But, as with all challenges, the Birds of Prey emerged victorious - they only got lost twice.

The final bell had rung ten minutes ago and most of the students had already cleared out, either to head into the village or back to their dorms. The halls were sparse, a positive that allowed them to find Miss Bertinelli’s classroom in no time. 

Dinah saw that the door was open as they approached. She could hear faint voices becoming clearer and clearer with each step. The blonde clenched and unclenched her fists, taking a deep breath through her nostrils as she and Barbara pushed into the near-empty classroom. 

_ The Black Canary can’t afford to be anything but focused. Not with her friend on the line. _

They heard her before they saw her.

“As it is right now, your paper is a solid B minus. Good enough for most, but not for a Kingston student. I know you can punch it up to an A.” Helena sat at her desk with a student’s paper in her hands, her long, raven-black hair done up in a neat bun. She wore a light purple blouse buttoned up to her collarbone and had a pair of librarian glasses resting on her nose.

She looked… normal.

_ Maybe… Maybe nothing’s wrong. Maybe Babs made a goof and the video really was a fake. Maybe Helena’s perfectly fine and we got worked up over nothing. _

“You need to trim some of the fat,” She continued, pointing at something on the page with her pencil. “Clean up the body paragraphs and really focus on two or three main points. Turn this back in tomorrow and we’ll see how much you improved!”

Her student, a pretty young woman with curly brown hair, nodded as she took her paper back and headed for the door. 

“Thanks, Miss Bertinelli.” She called back as she brushed past Dinah and Barbara. The duo waited until the girl’s footsteps faded down the hall before closing the door behind them and approaching Helena’s desk.

They moved slowly, cautiously, with their eyes trained on Helena, scanning for any sign of distress. They found none, simply a woman flipping through homework sheets and grading as she went. Helena didn’t look like a woman held against her will - Dinah had seen more than her fair share of those - nor did she look like a woman whose mind wasn’t her own. She looked like Helena… If perhaps a little inattentive. She didn’t notice them until they were right by her desk.

“Hey…” Dinah greeted the raven-haired woman with a forced smile.

Helena’s own smile was shockingly genuine, her eyes brightening up like a star at the sight of her girlfriends. “Dinah, Barbara!” She practically shot up from her seat, reaching over her desk to draw them in for a hug - a hug they half-heartedly returned. It was hard to share her enthusiasm after they’d watched the woman fuck a teenage boy.

“I was wondering when you guys would come visit. Did you get one of the Robins to babysit the Clock Tower? How many of those does the Bat have running around these days, anyway? Three?”

Dinah and Barbara shared a look that was equal parts concern and confusion.

“You don’t sound surprised to see us.” The redhead noted - her statement also a question.

“Why would I be surprised?” Helena snorted. “I sent you an invitation.”

It took a moment for that to register in Dinah’s mind. Helena didn’t mean it. She  _ couldn’t _ mean it.  The blonde blinked in shock, sending a wide-eyed look towards Barbara. The woman’s eyes were hard, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“The video,” Barbara - no,  _ Batgirl _ \- clarified, her voice like cold steel. “ _ You _ sent it to us?”

Helena simply smiled at them, an infuriatingly  _ proud _ smile. Something in her eyes changed as well, the bright happiness and friendly warmth glazing over, replaced with something darker. She leaned back in her chair, her hands absently occupied with her pencil, twirling it, rolling it between her fingers, tapping it idly against the ring on her right hand.

“I wanted to be sure I had your attention.” She confessed with the same casualness of a student admitting they forgot their homework. 

Dinah shook her head, horrified. “ _ Jesus _ , Helena! You can’t just… Why? Did you think we were going to be impressed?”

Helena shrugged, her dark lips curled into an impish grin. “Less bragging and more advertising, really. I know the dating scene has been rough on the three of us - don’t even get me started on other women capes. Too much work, not enough play. It’s a good thing the student body here is just so  _ wonderful _ to work with. And play with.”

Dinah nearly gagged, her stomach doing somersaults. She didn’t want it to be true, but the words that were spilling from Helena’s lips…

“Are you fucking listening to yourself?” Dinah almost shrieked. “You’re talking about  _ students _ .”

“And some of them are hung like horses.” Helena bit her lip, smirking. “But you two already know that.”

Dinah Lance was a tough honey. It took  _ a lot _ to throw the Black Canary off her game. And right now the Sonic Siren felt like throwing up. 

_ Right after I smack some sense into this hussy… _

“That’s a nice ring,” Barbara cut in suddenly, stepping between Dinah and Helena. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, this?” The raven-haired beauty held out her right hand, a silver band with a black stone gleaming on her ring finger. She gave her two guests a pleased smile. “A gift. My boyfriend gave it to me.”

“Matthew Reston, right? Same guy from the video?” Barbara pushed, her voice calm. 

“They very same,” Helena beamed with equal parts pride and love. “You wouldn’t know it, but he’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“He’s also  _ sixteen _ .” Barbara said bluntly.

Helena snorted. “And still more of a man than the weasels and creeps you’ll find back in the city.”

Dinah clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. She took a step towards Helena… And felt Barbara’s hand fall on her shoulder, squeezing. The Black Canary stopped, shooting Batgirl a dark look over her shoulder.

“Maybe she’s right.” Barbara said. 

Dinah’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious?”

The redhead exhaled through her nose, shrugging. “Maybe Mr. Reston  _ is _ good for her. He’s certainly got good taste. That ring is  _ gorgeous _ , Helena. May I see it?”

Helena said nothing for a moment. Her smile remained, but Dinah could see her eyes glaze over even more. She leaned back into her chair, further away from her two friends, clasping her hands together and moving them both off the desk and drawing them into her lap. 

“I never take it off.” Helena finally said, politely… and  _ firmly _ .

Dinah narrowed her eyes, glancing from Barbara to Helena to her hands resting on her lap… and to the ring gleaming on her finger. 

_ She’s being controlled… influenced… through the ring? _

“We insist.” Dinah pushed, unable to keep the edge out of her voice. “It really is lovely.”

The smile began to fade from Helena’s face… but Barbara interrupted then, chuckling. “That’s alright, Hel. Maybe another time.”

Dinah pursed her lips. “Babs…” She warned. 

The redhead ignored her. “You clearly have a lot of work that needs to get done. And Dinah and still need to get settled in. We start our new jobs tomorrow, after all. We’ll get out of your hair. Nice catching up with you. Maybe do it again soon?”

Helena’s eyes brightened up again and the smile returned in full force, like a switch had been flipped. “Absolutely. We can all catch up over lunch!”

“Already looking forward to it,” Barbara said, laughing. 

Dinah could have smacked her, but the redhead was already leading her out of the classroom by the arm. They were halfway down the hall when she finally shook free from Batgirl’s grip. She smacked her friend in the arm with the back of her hand. 

“What the hell was  _ that? _ ” Dinah hissed, her eyes ablaze.

Barbara didn’t turn to look at her, instead she kept walking at a brisk pace, forcing Dinah to follow angrily. It wasn’t until they were out of the building that Barbara whispered over to her, “It’s mind control. Definitely mind control. And you can bet your fishnet-covered ass it’s because of that ring.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that.” Dinah practically fumed. “Why’d you stop me from taking it? I could’ve snapped her out of it and we’d be busting heads by now.”

Barbara shook her head, pacing on the stone walkway, autumn leaves crunching under her boots. “It isn’t that simple. We don’t even know how the mind control works or how the ring implements it. If it has such a firm grip on her mind then removing it could cause severe or even permanent damage. Or maybe trying to remove it would trigger some sort of defense mechanism, making her attack us. Or maybe it will make her hurt herself. She’s a hostage, Dinah. The last thing we want to do is hurt her.”

Dinah clenched her jaw. Barbara was right. 

It sucked having a problem they couldn’t punch their way out of.

The Black Canary muttered a curse under her breath. She locked her gaze with the redhead. “I hope you have a plan, sister. Because we’re not leaving her like that.”

Batgirl nodded, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “I always have a plan, Canary. It just requires patience and caution. We find out how the ring works and we find out where the hell it came from. And we start with Helena’s…  _ boyfriend. _ ”


	4. The Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinah encounters their target in the flesh. Later, she and Barbara discuss new intel.

**Chapter Two**

**The Brotherhood**

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, keep up the hustle! I want to see those legs moving!” Dinah clapped her hands as the herd of teenagers blew past her in a stampede of sneakers and sweat. Their footfalls thundered against the glossy, wooden gym floor as their new gym teacher stood awkwardly near the bleachers, shouting encouragement and doing little else. Coach Dinah Blake may have come with glowing recommendations and an impressive list of credentials but Dinah _Lance_ didn’t know the first thing about physical education let alone teaching it. 

Truthfully, Dinah wasn’t too worried about it. Living the superhero life as the Black Canary left her with a more-than-decent grasp on fitness. Surely that knowledge would translate into decent lesson plans that would help her keep her cover. For a week or two, at least. But for the first day, Dinah decided to play it safe: the kids would run laps and Coach Blake would oversee their efforts. From the bleachers. 

_They still run laps in high school, right?_

There was one issue, however. The King of Creeps himself was in her class. Matthew Reston, the weasel who turned her friend Helena into his own personal sex puppet. And it took every ounce of her willpower not to tackle the little bastard to the floor and pound the snot out of him. 

Of course, in this case “little” wasn’t quite indicative of the object of her hatred. The boy looked much like he did on the video Barbara showed her: fair skin, brown hair, blue eyes. Tall, broad-shouldered, with well-muscled arms. But it was different seeing him in the flesh. He really _was_ handsome. 

And that just made the situation make even less sense. Dinah had lived through high school herself, endured the very same dreadful, wonderful years these kids were experiencing. Guys who looked like Matthew Reston couldn’t keep the girls away from them even if they tried. It was true when Dinah was a teenager. Hell, it was true when her _mother_ was a teenager. And it was still true today. So why would a young man like Matthew Reston need to use mind control on women? She knew for a fact that he didn’t come up short in the manhood department - the video had made that _abundantly_ clear. 

Maybe Reston was a control freak. The Lord knew there were plenty of those types running around. Or maybe he was just pure scum like his MegaCorp stuffed-suit of an uncle. Whatever reasons Reston had for what he did, they didn’t matter. Dinah swore she was going to pound the creep. Until then, though, she needed to keep her cover.

But that didn’t mean she had to go easy on the little bastard.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you slacking off back there, Reston!” She bellowed across the gymnasium, blowing her whistle just to be a little extra obnoxious. The kid slowed to a jog as he shot her a confused look. She blew her whistle again, pointing directly at him. “That’s an extra lap for you! Move it, pretty boy! If you’re not breaking a sweat, you’re not working hard enough!”

Reston, to his credit, didn’t look angry or even annoyed. The creep had the balls to shoot her a smirk, the kind of smug, cocky look she’d seen far too many times on too many men - she’d sometimes seen the same look on fellow heroes! She watched him finish his current lap, running at a steady pace with clear ease while many of his classmates were visibly fatigued. Dinah was not impressed, however, as she had already seen video evidence of the boy’s stamina.

On his next pass by the bleachers he slowed to a walk, perhaps out of defiance, and approached her. He walked with an arrogant swagger in his step that made Dinah’s blood boil, the same kind of confident strut that few men could naturally pull off. She’d seen it in high school, in college, even on the Justice League. Those were kind of men that Dinah melted over. And that was the worst part of this fucked up situation. Besides Helena being hypnotized, that is. 

The smirk plastered on Reston’s stupid, handsome face didn’t help one bit, pushing Dinah’s willpower to its absolute limit. 

 _If I’m not made a Green Lantern by the time this is over, I’m calling bullshit_ , she thought, forcing down a sneer as the young man came to a stop in front of her.

Matthew Reston planted his hands on his hips and gave her a genuine, heart-melting smile. The “Superman” look, Dinah noted with a purse of her lips. It was the first time she’d seen the guy up close - in the flesh, that is. The strong jaw, dimpled cheeks, the bright yet devious eyes, the arms, the chest, the abs, and the way his gym shirt was just tight enough to show them all off… The kid wasn’t just handsome. He was _gorgeous_. Hell, he even _smelled_ nice. And Dinah wanted nothing more than to break the fucker’s nose right then and there.

“You take this gig seriously. I like that.” He offered his hand to shake. “Our last gym teacher didn’t give a shit about athletics.”

“Watch the language.” Dinah warned curtly, ignoring the hand in front of her. She locked eyes with her target and refused to be the first to break contact. If she made him uncomfortable, then it was all the better. Prey should never rest easy. “That’ll be another lap.” She added coldly.

Reston raised a brow and _laughed_ , his eyes gleaming like he knew it was all a game, that he was charming fellow to melt the ice queen’s heart. Suddenly, Dinah was extremely aware of her beating heart, the thumping in her chest now turned into pounding, _thundering_ against her ribcage. There were thoughts in her head right then, unspeakable thoughts that she rightfully snuffed out the moment they came into existence. There was a fluttering feeling, the horrible sensation she hadn’t felt since she was a stupid giggly teenager. She took it and buried it _deep_ , silently praying it would stay there. This terrifying ordeal occurred in less than a second and now Dinah was back in the gymnasium with a rapist scumbag back in front of her.

Reston had his hands raised half-heartedly in mock surrender, doing a damn fine impression of a charming, handsome young man. “My bad. I’ll watch my mouth next time. I still think it’s good to have you here.” He then blatantly gave her a once-over, drawing his hungry eyes up and down her body. She wasn’t wearing anything revealing, but not even sweatpants could hide the Black Canary’s sculpted, drool-worthy legs. “Maybe now gym class will actually be exciting.”

And just like that, Dinah was back to being pissed. She would have admired the sheer arrogance the kid possessed if she wasn’t already flooded with a sense of pure disgust - both for the sleazebag and for herself.

“Is that right?” She asked with a smirk of her own, masking malice and rage to the best of her ability. She could not stop some of it from creeping into her words. “In that case, when you’re done running your extra three laps, you can go ahead and give me fifty push-ups. Does that sound exciting enough for you?”

Reston wasn’t phased, jokingly wincing as if he’d been slapped. “Ouch. You don’t mess around do you?”

Dinah batted her eyes, sweetness and venom dripping from her tongue. “I could make it one hundred.”

The kid pressed his lips into a line and gave a half-bow of defeat. He may have been cockier than Guy Gardner but at least he knew when to throw in the towel. “Gotcha. Still better than the last teacher, though.”

He turned to go back to his laps and that’s when Dinah saw it. There on his right hand, resting on his middle finger, was a ring. A ring of dark, glossy stone.

“Hold it!” She called out a bit too loudly. Reston stopped dead in his tracks, turning towards her with a look of genuine confusion. But Dinah never took her eyes off the ring. “That’s a mighty fine ring you got there, Mr. Reston. But you know the rules. No jewelry.”

A moment passed. Reston looked from the ring to Dinah, his eyes unreadable. They both stood there as other kids passed by, still as stone. She saw him run his thumb over the black band then watched as he closed his fingers into a fist, drawing the hand to his side - _away_ from Dinah.

The cockiness had gone from his face and his voice was firm and cold as ice. “I never take it off, Miss Blake.”

Dinah frowned. “And why not?” She snapped.

Reston blinked. Another moment passed. The young man brought his hand up to his chest so he could look at the ring glimmer under the gymnasium lights. 

“...Spiritual reasons.” He finally told her.

Dinah thought about forcing him to take it off. She thought about sending him to the principal’s office. She thought about kicking the bastard in the groin. She thought about doing a lot of things. But ultimately, she knew they wouldn’t do her - or Helena - any good.

Coach Blake exhaled through her nose and smiled. “A hundred push-ups it is!”

* * *

“Reston’s wearing a ring, too.”

“I figured.” Barbara kept her eyes glued to her computer screen, reaching over to the minifridge under her desk. She produced an ice-cold can of diet Soder Cola, setting it on a coaster a little way to the side of her keyboard. The _crack_ and _hiss_ that followed told Barbara that her guest accepted her gift eagerly.

As Dinah took a sip from her drink, she turned and planted her sweatpants-covered butt on Barbara’s desk, crossing one leg over the other. Before the redhead could voice her displeasure - really, chairs were invented for a reason - the blonde was speaking again.

“Just like Helena, the kid refused to take the damn thing off.” Dinah frowned, tapping the heel of her foot against Barbara’s desk. “You think… He can only maintain control over her as long as there’s a connection? Like, they both need to wear the rings for the mind control to work?”

Barbara exhaled in annoyance, blowing some air through her nose, but decided to hold her tongue. She tapped a few keys on her laptop and instantly the screen was illuminated by a digital dossier. The bold text that ran across the heading read ‘ **Hypnosis Enchantments** ’.

“I don’t want to make assumptions, but…” Barbara swiveled her seat to face Dinah. “I’d wager that’s exactly how it works. Magic-based hypnosis channeled through a connection held between enchanted objects. One sender, one receiver. Or multiple receivers.”

“Nasty stuff.” Dinah muttered with distaste.

“Zatanna once told me that if she had a dollar for every time she’s had to deal with this kind of crap, she’d never need to put on another magic show.” Barbara said soberly. This was far from the first time the Birds of Prey had dealt with men like Matthew Reston, the predators who used their power and influence to manipulate and exploit vulnerable women. But it was the first time one of their own had fallen victim to them. There was a weight that settled in the pit of Barbara Gordon’s belly, a sense of failure that no amount of daydreaming about smashing Reston’s teeth in could fix.

“So what’s the game plan?” Dinah’s voice cut right through Barbara’s thoughts, dragging her back to the real world. “We take the ring off of the kid instead?”

Barbara shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I saw four more of those rings in my class today. One of them was on another male student. Andrew Westfield.”

The redhead tapped a few more keys, bringing up half a dozen windows on her screen. Here, a driver’s license. There, academic transcripts. Social media pages, forum accounts, web search histories, the works. All from this new guy, Andrew Westfield. Barbara had done her research well before Dinah had arrived. 

“Seventeen years old. Solid grades. Star athlete. Comes from old money. It’s like they make guys like him and Reston in a fucking lab somewhere.” Barbara continued. “I’ve already told you about his father. Paul Westfield. A project director at _Cadmus_.”

Dinah only looked mildly annoyed, like she had already been expecting the situation to get worse. “Right. This place really is supervillain high.” She groaned, rubbing her temple with her free hand. “So Reston has himself an accomplice?”

“Or a ring of accomplices. Reston and Westfield are both members of the same campus social club. The Kingston Brotherhood.” Barbara reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a yearbook. She was lucky the library allowed her to take this copy back to her room. Bound in dark brown buckram, the book’s front cover had silver indented lettering that read ‘ **Class of 1976** ’. 

Barbara opened the book up to a marked page and presented it to Dinah, tapping her finger against one particular black and white photo. A group of young men standing around a large, round table, all posed to have their picture taken, all smiling. The text beneath was a series of names: Roland Desmond, Derek Reston, Paul Westfield, William Heller…

Barbara smirked as she saw the look of realization dawn on Dinah’s face.

“And get this: the Kingston Brotherhood is old. As in ‘founding of the country’ old. This mind control stuff could be much bigger than we thought, Dinah. This isn’t horny sleazebags living out playboy fantasies anymore. This is centuries-old conspiracy territory now. And we just fell ass-backwards into it.”

The blonde powerhouse still had her eyes locked on the photo, slowly examining every scumbag’s smirking face. With a snort of disgust, she closed the yearbook shut and flung it into the wastebasket.

“I actually needed to return that to the library…” Barbara muttered, but was interrupted as Dinah cut in.

“It doesn’t matter if these creeps have been doing this shit to women for a hundred years or a thousand. It stops _now_ , with _us_.” She declared, her diet Soder Cola now forgotten on Barbara’s desk. Barbara made a point to move the abandoned drink onto a coaster. The Kingston Academy was quickly turning out to as much of a cesspool as Gotham City, but that was no reason to act like savages.

“I absolutely agree with you, Canary.” Said Barbara. “But we need to play this smart. This magic stuff is tricky.”

The blonde was pacing now, the restlessness having long boiled over into clear frustration. “I just hate sitting on my ass like this. Reston was within five feet of me and _I couldn’t do anything_.”

“I know how much you want to go to town on that creep. I do too, trust me. Luckily for the both of us, that’s _exactly_ where my plan leads.”

“Now you’re talking my language, Red.” Dinah said with a fiery glimmer in her eyes.

“There’s a catch, though.” Barbara warned. “We need to take them all at once. That’s the tricky part. We could absolutely go over to Reston’s dorm room, beat him to within an inch of his life, and take the ring with no problem. But if we sever one magical connection, it could alert the others. Some of these enchantments work like an alarm system: If one is broken, the rest are put on alert. And we don’t even know how many others are in on this. It could be just these two or it could be a dozen. So if we tip the rest off by jumping the gun, who knows what they’d do? So we’re going to play it safe. For Helena’s sake. And for all the other women these creeps have ensnared.”

“Fine.” Dinah nodded. “For Helena.”

“We stick to plan.” Barbara insisted. “We stay undercover. We shadow Reston and Westfield. We find out who else is part of their operation. We confirm all of our targets. Get them all in one place. And then we shut them down. _Completely_.”

The vicious smile that spread across Dinah’s face told Barbara to pity the men who would soon be on the receiving end of the Black Canary’s rage.

A soft ping from Barbara’s laptop ripped them both out of their small moment of righteous fervor. The redhead furrowed her brow and tapped a key, bringing up a window that was playing slightly fuzzy footage. A clear downgrade from the woman’s usual surveillance devices, but the site of live, streaming footage brought a small smile to her face. The video feed showed their friend, Helena, and judging from her nudity it was clear the woman had just exited the shower.

“You bugged Helena’s room?” She heard Dinah ask, her friend sounding both impressed and perturbed.

“Microphones _and_ camera. Finally got a decent connection established, too.” Barbara bragged, shrugging at the blonde’s wary expression. “We gotta keep an eye on our girl, don’t we?”

The sound of someone knocking at the door made them both jump, putting Barbara especially on edge until they realized it was coming from the video feed.

“Sounds like she’s got a visitor.” Murmured Dinah as she joined Barbara in her intense focus on the livestream. 

Together, they watched their dear friend slip on nothing but a purple silk bathrobe before moving to answer the door…


	5. A Late-Night Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena enjoys a late-night visit from her boyfriend.

**Chapter Three**

**A Late-Night Affair**

Helena leaned against her open bedroom door, her arms folded just beneath her breasts. The silk robe hugged her body like a second skin, clinging delightfully to every curve. She regarded her late-night visitor with reproachful eyes, silently chiding the young man as he stood waiting in the dormitory hallway. 

He had a smirk plastered on his dumb, handsome face and Helena was in half a mind to slap some sense into the kid. A male student so brazenly standing in the middle of the female teachers’ dormitory past curfew would almost certainly result in strict disciplinary action. It was almost as if he _wanted_ to get caught. But that wasn’t why Helena was so vexed. No, what truly ticked the raven-haired beauty off was that he was made her _wait_.

“Hey, Miss Bertinelli.” Matthew Reston greeted warmly, making absolutely no effort to hide his appreciation of Helena’s nightly attire. His gaze shamelessly fell across her body, all those womanly curves wrapped snug in purple silk, down to her deliciously bare legs, her pale skin glistening under the dim lights of her dorm room. “You wanted to see me?”

Having just gotten out of the shower, Helena felt especially vulnerable - an almost alien sensation for a bonafide superheroine to have. Matthew brought his eyes back up to meet hers and she could see the beast lurking deep within. There was a fluttering in her belly then, with a delightful shiver dancing across her back. 

She clicked her tongue, bringing one hand up to inspect her nails. The ring with the glossy, black stone glimmered on her finger. “You’re late. That’s the third night in a row, Mister Reston.”

Her voice was firm, authoritative, and her tone was of serious warning. The way she spoke would have had every two-bit thug in Gotham pissing his pants. But all Matthew did was snort in amusement. With the smirk still on his lips, he moved into Helena’s room with intimate familiarity, giving Helena herself on more appreciative look as he brushed past.

“I was talking with my boys.” He explained as if it were an afterthought. “Lost track of time.”

She watched him stride into the middle of her dorm room with supreme confidence. The sheer boldness the young man possessed was staggering, to the point where Helena almost couldn’t be mad at the kid. Even if her other career as a head-busting superheroine was unknown to him, she was still very clearly his teacher and very clearly the one with the authority. The way he simply disregarded that, disregarded _her_ … It was so unfeminist, so regressive, a slap to the face of every woman who fought her way into man’s world. Yet his blatant disrespect was… _intoxicating_. 

He wasn’t calling her names or slapping her around. Oh no, she would never allow that. But the cocky flirting, the daring pinches and touches in crowded hallways, the stolen moments in empty classrooms, the way he touched her body… The idea that some sixteen year old high school jock could have a woman like Helena Bertinelli… The idea that he could _take_ a woman like the Huntress… It was _enticing_. 

Truth be told, Helena wasn’t quite sure how or when she became the kind of woman to fuck her students. A year ago she would’ve broken the jaw of anyone who even considered something like that from her. But now?

“It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting.” Helena admonished as she closed the door shut. She turned the lock, taking a short breath as she heard the metallic ‘click’. Now, they were alone. A woman and her stud. _Or a stud and his woman._ “Especially when that lady is your teacher.”

She approached him slowly, a sway in her hips, her hands playing at the silk belt around her waist. He was already sitting on her bed, the cocky little shit, his eyes betraying nothing but open appreciation for her and her body. She had almost forgotten how tall he was, silently noting that when sitting down Matthew was just barely shorter than her.

“Is that right, Miss B?” He inquired, clearly humoring her mock admonishment. 

Helena gave a smirk of her own as she placed on knee on her bed, then the other, settling into her favorite seat: her boyfriend’s lap. Straddling him on the edge of her bed, she hummed pleasantly as she felt his burgeoning prick even through his jeans. _Half-hard and still growing_ , she noted with a smirk. _What the fuck are they feeding kids these days?_

With their faces mere inches apart, she found herself looking into his eyes again. The beast was still there, the growing fire that threatened to swallow her whole, but there was something else there, too. She saw in his eyes genuine affection, real happiness that she was there in his arms. And it made her heart flutter. She kissed him then, a short but deep kiss that was full of yearning and hunger as much love. Matthew tasted of mint but there was a heavy, earthy flavor as well. He tasted like a _man_. And Helena needed more.

Most fortunately, Matthew was more than willing to give her what she needed. Once the kiss broke, he attacked her exposed neck, kisses and nips and licks marking their way across her bare skin. She accepted him with a giggle, relishing in the experience of a man beginning to have his way, enjoying the thrill of a younger man’s strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulling their bodies closer together. She cooed as he sucked on her neck, her hands coming up to cradle his head, her fingers running through his soft, brown hair.

“I’ve been far too lenient with you, Matthew.” Helena sighed, softly gasping as she felt his teeth nip at her neck. “You strut around campus with your good looks, your muscles, and your tight shirts. You have girls throwing themselves at your feet. Maybe... Maybe you’ve got it in your head that you’re king around here.”

Matthew planted a kiss on the exposed skin above her cleavage before pulling back to allow Helena to tug his shirt off. Their lips came together again, the kissing more intense than before, deeper and more ravenous. Helena almost felt dizzy as her tongue explored Matthew’s mouth, staking a claim over her man in her own way. If there was ever a way to plant a flag in a feminine fashion… Helena took the opportunity to have her own turn attacking his neck, her tongue and nostrils filled with the flavor and scent of hot, young stud.

“Maybe I _am_ king.” Matthew said. Helena could hear the smirk in his voice. “It’s like you said. I’ve got good grades, good looks, and the ladies love me.”

Helena planted a hand on his broad chest and with a quick shove had her lover sprawled on his back. To his credit, Matthew took it more than gracefully, his large hands finding their way to her bare thighs, the skirt of her robe riding dangerously high on her legs.

She shifted her body, straddling his waist, running her hands over his naked torso. She felt his broad shoulders, his muscled chest, his solid abs, her tongue snaking across her lips as she felt the contours of his masculine body. _Boy’s been eating his veggies_ , she thought with a giggle.

“And that is exactly what I’m talking about.” She poked a finger into his chest, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “You need to check that ego, Mister.”

The kiss deepened again, tongues dueling for dominance while Matthew moved his hands from her thighs to her well-sculpted rear. He filled his daring palms with soft ass cheeks, squeezing and fondling with abandon. She hummed into the kiss, moaning as his hands claimed ownership of her ass, the more masculine flag-planting gesture extending his dominion over the rest of her body. At this point he absolutely had to have known she wasn’t wearing panties. And it was only a matter of time before he found out how dripping wet she was.

“You call it ‘ego’. I call it ‘confidence’.” Matthew practically growled into her ear. His hands rose once more, sliding under her silk robe, fingers running up her back. “Nothing wrong with knowing I’m top dog.”

The feeling of his skin on hers was electrifying. She needed more and she needed it now. Muttering a curse, Helena’s own hands went to her robe’s belt, attacking the knot with desperate need. Her eagerness was rewarded and the knot came loose, her robe parting open and her pale, succulent breasts falling free. Matthew was on them instantly, Helena yelping as her young lover’s mouth and tongue sought out a breast while the other was kneaded by his strong hand.

He sucked and kissed and licked at the pale globes, hungrily devouring his teacher’s sweet tits like a starving man. Matthew had become close to a beast, driven wild by lust, and all Helena could do was endure his attentions. Not that she wanted to do anything else. Helena found herself grinding on Matthew’s lap, her wet cunt aching as she felt the massive bulge of his rock-solid cock through his pants. The superheroine sighed and gasped and moaned, cradling her boyfriend’s head as he nursed his hunger on her ample teats. 

“What am I going to do with you?” She mused with a blissful smile.

Matthew lashed his tongue against her hard, pink nipple before craning his head back to look his favorite teacher in the eyes. He rested his chin on her breast, giving Helena a wolfish smile.

"I've got a couple ideas." He growled, sounding more beast than teenager.

The Huntress shivered in the young man's lap, the hunger in his voice sending a thrilling shock to her already dripping wet pussy. Her hands went from cradling his head to his broad, muscled shoulders, once more taking the liberty of feeling just how generous puberty had been to the boy. Was it good genetics or just good luck? 

Helena worked side-by-side with the likes of Batman and Nightwing and still found that she was impressed with Mr. Reston's physique. Her hands traveled lower to his deliciously thick arms and squeezed, the teacher feeling absolutely _giddy_ at the lack of give. The young man was delightfully _firm_ , solidly built like a man ought to be.

"Jesus, what are they feeding you kids these days?" She moaned breathlessly, almost whining. It simply wasn't _fair!_ How could society expect a woman like Helena Bertinelli to walk the path of goodness and purity when there were young studs like Matthew strutting their stuff around campus every damn day? With a lustful snarl, Helena shoved the younger man onto his back again, taking the opportunity to kiss and lick at his chest and abs, playfully nipping at his skin as she moved down his gorgeous body.

She slid down until she was off her bed, kneeling on the carpet between Matthew's outstretched - and maddeningly still-clothed - legs. The student was propped up on his elbows then, looking down at her with a glint in his eyes that told her he wholeheartedly approved of this new development.

"You're horrible, you know that?" She muttered as her hands went to the fly of his pants. Helena's mouth was watering as she tugged down jeans and boxers both. The scent hit her first: heavy, distinct, and unmistakably _male_ . A lesser woman would have been stunned stupid by the aroma alone and the very sight of him swinging down like a weighty pendulum was enough to make the fearsome Huntress _gasp_. Even as a repeat customer, Helena was almost at a loss for words. 

" _Fuck_ ..." She whimpered, staring reverently at the boy's mammoth manhood. The awestruck woman leaned forward and _inhaled_ , moaning softly as she rested her cheek on his naked thigh. Matthew's cock was _magnificent_ , long and thick and angry-looking, swollen and twitching between his legs like a mad, rutting beast. It was a raging monstrosity desperate for a tight, wet hole to fuck and plunder and ravage. "I'm just trying to be a good catholic woman and you have to come into my classroom and sit your pretty ass right in the front row," She sighed, reached out to cradle him. She cupped his balls in one hand while stroking him slowly and softly with the other. Her eyes were glazed over like she was in a trance, a blissful smile spreading across her beautiful face as she pressed her nose into his groin and _inhaled_ . "It's a sin for a young man your age to look the way you do... It's a sin for a fucking teenager to have such a _beautiful_ cock..."

"You trying to butter me up, Miss B?" Matthew rumbled above her, all too willing to simply lean back and enjoy his teacher's gentle, womanly touch. "What happened to watching my ego?"

"Ego's got nothing to do with it." Helena murmured, planting soft kisses along the shaft of his thick cock, cradling the veiny bastard against her face. She swiped her tongue out against it, leaving a glossy stripe of saliva running up his length. "It's the truth. You're a good-looking guy, Mr. Reston. Tall, handsome, and a nice, fat prick." She pumped her hand up and down the shaft, lashing her tongue against the swollen head. She took the tip into her mouth and sucked, swirling her tongue around it until it had a nice, thick coat of warm spit. She pulled back, a string of saliva stretching from the cockhead to her flushed-red lips. "I know a few women who'd claw my eyes out for a chance to ride this bastard."

Helena heard Matthew let out a low chuckle. "You should introduce me sometime." He half-teased. She could detect the hint of genuine excitement in his voice. How could she expect anything else? The idea of a hot teacher lending her boy toy out to all of her hot friends was the dream of many red-blooded young men. Helena had to admit that it was a tantalizing fantasy. 

"Oh, you'd love that wouldn't you?" She purred, smiling devilishly at her young lover while she jacked his fat prick with both hands. Then she buried her pretty face into his groin again, this time pressing her soft lips to his scrotum. The scent was even more intense than that of his cock, salt and sweat and _manhood_ overwhelming her sense of taste. Her tongue lashed out, running across Matthew's ample balls. She licked them again, this time savoring the flavor, moaning like shameless whore as she took them both into her sweet mouth and _sucked_.

This what she had become. A feared and respected vigilante turned cock-hungry slut, down on her knees and using her lips and tongue to lavish a teenager's ball-sack. And she _loved_ it. 

Helena slurped away, almost delirious with lust, giggling like some schoolgirl while pumping Matthew's cock, her fingers sliding up and down his length in quick strokes thanks to the generous coatings of her own spit. 

"Fat cock swinging between your legs, big aching balls filled with hot cum..." She murmured dreamily, planting small kisses to his head and shaft. She gave a kittenish smile, flicking her tongue out against the tip of her boyfriend's big bad cock. "A young man like you has gotta get his rocks off, right? And you need me to parade you around campus like my prized stud. Everyone should know what kind of man you are... They should know what I let you do to me with this big fucking thing..."

She took his manhood into her mouth again. But it wasn't for the mere teasing she gave him before. This time she wanted to give a genuine attempt, a true showing of her skills. 

Bobbing her head in his lap, she sucked and slurped upon the titan of flesh. She took him deep, humming happily at the taste of Matthew, the sensation of him on her tongue, of her lips wrapped around him. She was delighted by the intimacy of it, of being down on her knees with her mouth stuffed with her man's cock. Above her, she could hear him groan and mutter curses, the audible proof of her talent. She swelled with pride, now driven to milk the lad dry. She redoubled her efforts, worshiping his magnificent cock with her lips and tongue like no other woman before her. His cum belonged to her and she was going to get it.

"You're amazing, Miss B." Matthew grunted, running his fingers through her hair. Helena felt his hand come to rest on the back of her head. It was a small but clear display of power over her and it made her shiver. It was so _naughty_ , so against the traditional rule-book to let a younger man - a _teenager_ \- do these things to her. And yet it _thrilled_ her. She had never felt like this before, not with any man. Not even _Nightwing_ had gotten away with some of the things Matthew did.

She dipped her head down, taking him deep. She gagged around him, allowing the saliva build up in her mouth before parting her lips some to let it dribble down his shaft. Matthew let loose a beastly sound, a guttural noise of approval as the warm glaze of spit slithered down over his shaft and stones. 

Helena pulled back then, strings of saliva stretching from her lips to the well-sucked prick twitching against the cool air of her bedroom. The raven-haired woman took a few ragged breaths before cackling like a madwoman. She didn't know why she was acting like this or how things escalated to this point. She was giving one of her own students a wet and sloppy blowjob. He was only sixteen years old. This was _wrong_ . But Helena just didn't care. The only thing she knew for sure was how it made her feel. And it felt _good_ . It felt _liberating_ . The freedom of surrender was _intoxicating_.

"It'd be fun to watch you fuck my gal pals 'till they can't walk." She cooed up at him, resting her chin on his thigh. She reached up and softly batted Matthew's cock with her fingers, watching the immense, glistening shaft sway between his legs with dreamy eyes. "But I don't think they can handle you, big boy. Not like I can."

"Prove it." He growled. His voice was pure authority and it made her heart flutter, her blood _sing_ . This... This _boy_ had commanded _her_ ... And she _wanted_ to obey him. 

So she did.

"Hmm. _Yes, sir_." She said with honey in her voice, lowering her mouth to his balls once more. She wrapped her lips around one then the other, letting them both rest on her tongue. She massaged them, sucked upon them hungrily, letting the strong flavor of sixteen-year-old ball-sack settle on her taste buds. She hummed in delight as she drank down his taste, taking in his deeply male scent.

Helena felt a firm but gentle tug on her hair and reluctantly drew away from Matthew's testicles, whining softly as she relished the lingering flavor on her lips.

With a solid grip on her raven-black mane, Matthew dragged Helena up to her feet, pulling her close so that their noses were touching.

"Good girl," He chuckled. Then he kissed her. She gave as good as she got, her tongue lashing against his in the kind of duel she always loved to lose. But he pulled away just as soon as their game began... And he _shoved_ her onto the bed. Helena yelped, half in shock and half in joy. She knew what Matthew wanted. They had done this dance enough times for her body to know follow his commands before they even left his lips.

"Up on the bed, Miss B." Matthew ordered. "Spread those legs and get that sweet ass of yours in the air."

"So assertive," Helena giggled happily, already on her elbows and knees with her big pale tits pressed down into the bed sheets. The pale swells of her sculpted ass were raised up, her tight pink cunt glistening in the dim light of the dorm room. She threw a kittenish little smile over her shoulder, her eyes glittering with excitement. She watched her boyfriend take his place behind her, his large hands finding their rightful spots on her wide hips. She wiggled her butt into his groin, playfully defiant as she felt his cock brush against her soft ass. "I love it when you order me around."

"Call me old-fashioned..." Matthew started, fingers sinking into the soft, womanly flesh of Helena's hips. "But women need direction. The kind only a _strong hand_ can provide."

He ran one hand over the soft, pale skin of Helena's asscheeks, clearly savoring the moment and enjoying the sensation of a woman's body under his fingertips. Then he raised that same hand high in the air... And brought it down _hard_ . The only thing louder than the slap of palm against ass was Helena's _shriek_. It quickly petered out into a pitiful whimper then continued to evolve into a lustful moan when she felt him palm her stinging asscheek possessively, groping at his own pleasure, his hands claiming dominion over her poor, mistreated rear-end. 

"You... You're _barbaric_ , Mr. Reston." She threw him a scalding sneer. "You touch my body like you own me."

"Maybe I do." He growled, using his hands to spread her cheeks apart, revealing her in all her pink feminine glory.

Helena matched his gaze, her eyes aflame with twisted desire.

" _Prove it._ "


End file.
